


Spellbound

by Pollydoodles



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 00:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7131647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollydoodles/pseuds/Pollydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Halloween is 'Come As You Aren't' night; and Bucky's trying out something else for size.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spellbound

“Dress up is fun.” He could practically hear the pout in Darcy’s voice as the loudspeaker sounded her disappointment in them both, as if they’d forgotten her birthday or not cleaned up for dinner. Steve had answered the call, wiping grease-stained hands on his jeans before swiping the screen, then set it on the little workbench next to his bike. Bucky, who had been resting his ass on the workbench as well, slid off it and looked over at Steve questioningly. 

“Don’t you think that, collectively, we dress up enough, Darce?” Steve laughed, looking back at Bucky as he shook his head. Smiling to himself. The other man let his head roll back against the doorframe and one foot rest easily against the wall. He raised an eyebrow, wondering where it was that Lewis was going with it all. 

“Nope.” Came the solid response from the phone, and Bucky had to smile at the firm resolution in her voice. Lewis rarely gave up. He wasn’t sure why Steve was trying to fight it, other than the fact that he was built exactly the same way. He reflected that it might just be the reason he liked the little brunette so much. 

“And the whole point of Halloween is the chance to be something you’re not the rest of the year.” She finished insistently. 

“Exactly,” Steve shot back, winking at Bucky as he did so. “So we get to be people who aren’t in costume.” The sigh that rolled out of the loudspeaker sounded so much like the way one would pronounce an eyeroll if were possible to do so. 

\--------

She hadn't really expected them to come at all, let alone in costume. So when the elevator doors pinged open and she turned to find them standing there, Darcy was heavily and pleasantly surprised. Not quite as surprised as she was though - nor, indeed as surprised as everyone else - when she took in what they were wearing.

Her eyes hit Steve first. He was dressed in black, a frankly atrocious dark wig on his head and what was probably half a roll of kitchen foil wrapped poorly around his left arm. He grinned, still several shades of his usual shy self underneath it but doing his level best to adopt Bucky’s confident do-I-look-like-I-give-a-fuck swagger as he approached the rest of of the party.

The other guests, most notably Stark who was dressed to the nines as Jon Snow, laughed and whooped, descending upon him. Darcy’s attention however fell to Bucky who was bringing up the rear as usual. He was never quite part of the group, always just on the edges, no matter how much Steve tried to draw him in. Darcy had often been put in mind of a wolf, circling, judging, waiting. 

Her jaw dropped as her eyes raked over him.

She'd always found him attractive, mainly because she had both eyes and a pulse. James  
Buchanan Barnes had the brooding, dark edged bad boy look down to a fine art, and she was woman enough to admit that she'd indulged in a few fantasies that involved him, his left arm, alleyways and motorbikes. But this… This was a whole other world.

Bucky was poured into Steve’s uniform, fitting every angle of it perfectly. The white star sat over his chest like it had always been meant to be there, and even his metal arm fit snugly under the stretch of the suit. His waist tapered to his hips, the bold red and white stripes drawing the eye to the way his torso narrowed. He was carrying the shield on his back, magnetised in place with the shoulder holsters Steve usually wore. Whilst she knew that Steve was an attractive man, the uniform had never specifically appealed to her the way that she’d overheard other women sighing over it. Now, looking at Bucky as he strode purposefully into the party, she got it. 

Darcy felt her cheeks turn hot pink as he caught sight of her looking - read, staring - and tipped his head to her in a very Captain America movement that was somehow both strange and so very right on him. She spun on her toes and busied herself at the bar, setting down the little wand she’d been carrying as part of her costume and pouring out God-knows-what from bottles she didn't bother to read in an attempt to look like she was doing something other than mentally peeling him out of his clothes.

“Ma’am.” 

She thought she made a fairly credible attempt at not jumping out of her skin when his deep voice reverberated around her. Darcy took in a deep breath and span back on her heels to find Bucky stood behind her, hands resting on his utility belt in a way she'd seen Steve do so many times before. He was looking at her shyly, a pace or so away from her, blue eyes thoughtful.

Darcy crossed her arms over herself and pretended to the angel bouncing in some alarm on her shoulder that it absolutely wasn't because it pressed her breasts together and left them straining against the confines of her costume. Bucky's eyes dipped downwards, ever so briefly, before snapping back to her face. 

“Captain.” She smiled, and offered him a drink, reaching behind her to grab one she'd hastily poured out, and wondered vaguely as she thrust it out towards him what was actually in it. He stared down at the glass, which had in it a murky green liquid. Darcy thought possibly she'd added a little of everything in reach to that one.

He shook his head, a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and Darcy remained holding the glass to give her hands something to do as he looked down at her. She took an absentminded sip of at the glass as she pondered on something to say to him, and nearly choked. By the way it tasted, there was nothing but several types of pure alcohol in it, and it made her eyes water. 

She thrust the glass back on the counter and thumped her free hand into her chest as she coughed hard. Bucky moved forward in concern as she doubled over and Darcy pushed at him, mumbling frantically between hacking coughs that she was fine, just fine, thanks. Now both the angel and the devil on either shoulder were face-palming at her, she was sure. Finally righting herself and tossing her dark hair back in what she hoped was a vaguely attractive manner, she fixed him with was only a slightly watery smile. 

“Little witch, are you?” He asked, politely skating over the fact that she was still gulping a little for air, his eyes taking in the tall pointed hat that sat on her head, pinned in firmly to her dark hair. She tilted her head to one side, letting the hat fall slightly, and put her hands on her hips. Bucky slid his gaze over the rest of her, allowing himself a moment to slip out of the Captain America character and appreciate what was in front of him. 

She stood in front of him defiantly, and he liked seeing the fight bubble within her, for all it was wrapped in her usual lack of confidence and what she’d no doubt call dorkiness. Bucky liked it. He’d grown up in a time where women were almost painted dolls, beautiful undoubtedly but impossible to get under the surface with. Always too worried about letting appearances slide. Darcy Lewis on the other hand, was only ever herself. 

The long dark dress that she’d wrapped around her curves served only to accentuate them, a spidery netting of fake cobwebs draped across it to hammer home the theme. He liked the way it elongated her legs, and the hint of a thigh-high split that flashed a dazzling length of pale skin as she shifted awkwardly in front of him made him long to drop in front of her and offer himself up, however she might take him. 

Hardly a Captain America thought, and he quirked the edge of his mouth in his own amusement as he cast a glance back over his shoulder at Steve who was doing what he apparently thought was a good impression of the Winter Soldier. Natasha, who’d come as a woman she called Velma and of whom he’d never heard, was tilting her head at his friend and the awful Russian accent he was putting on. 

Bucky thought if Steve managed made it out of the party with his head still attached to his broad shoulders, he’d call it a win. 

“You going to dance with me or not?” Darcy asked, causing him to turn back to her and finding her little blue eyes fixed upon him as she leaned back against the bar. He fought his inner dog, which growled low and hard in his chest, not to stare at her breasts as the plunging neckline of her dress stretched across them. For her part, Darcy had dug deep and found some courage lurking somewhere buried inside. He shook his head and her heart dropped a little at that, though she worked overtime not to let it show on her face. 

“Can’t dance.” He answered, tilting his eyes at her sideways. 

“I’ve seen you dance,” She blurted out, unable to control the words or stop them spilling from her lips. Darcy bit at her tongue, realising that it sounded hurt at best and accusatory at worst, and neither of which she particularly wanted Bucky Barnes to know he’d drawn from her. She angled her head away from him and tried to bluff her way out of it with confidence she didn’t actually have. 

“You ain’t seen Steve dance,” Bucky countered, nudging at her slightly with one elbow and making her turn back towards him. “And I’m him tonight, right? Your rules.”

“That’s right, so you’d best keep yourself in line or I’ll put a spell on you.” She joked, turning back to the bar and fixing to pour herself a drink that was actually palatable. Bucky twisted his body with ease, moving within the suit like he owned it, and Darcy could see the way his muscles rolled under it as he moved from the corner of her eye, and shivered involuntarily. 

“Doll, you already did that, and you didn’t need no cheap hat and spiders webs sewn onto your clothes either.”

His voice was low and somehow dark, and his face was almost against hers as he spoke so that she could hear him over the steady thump of the bass in the music that Tony was blaring out across the room. Darcy splashed a great deal of vodka over the bar and her hand as she jerked in surprise. Bucky hummed in a way that suggested he might be laughing, but was holding it back. 

“So what does Steve do at a party, then?” She asked brightly, turning back to him as though he’d said nothing at all, surreptitiously wiping her hand against her dress and sipping at the drink she’d thrown together, staring out over at the rest of the party. 

“Usually he hangs at the bar, sucking down beers that don’t do nothin’ for him and trying to pluck up the courage to talk to the girl he likes.” Bucky reached back over the bar and snagged a bottle, popping the cap easily between metal thumb and finger; and Darcy snapped her head away as though she wasn’t looking when he did it. 

She instead looked out at the dance floor where Steve was making a concerted attempt at dancing with Sharon. The woman was gamely trying to both keep up with him and avoid him stepping on her toes, which was a skill sadly lacking in both the SHIELD and CIA training programmes, it seemed. 

“How are you liking being Steve for the night?” She asked curiously, tilting her head back towards him and resisting the sudden heady temptation to reach out and run a hand up his arm, feel what the suit felt like when it was wrapped around metal instead of flesh and blood. 

“Well,” He said, considering and casting his gaze over the room in front of them, “It’s nice not to be myself for once.”

“What’s wrong with being you?” Darcy asked, and he was mildly gratified to hear a tone of indignation slicing through the words, even if he thought she was cracked in the head for thinking it. 

He gave a hollow laugh that had no humour in it. “What’s right with me? I got a list of sins to atone for that even I can’t live long enough to put right. I’m a man outta time and outta his damned mind most days, everyone here skirts me in the corridor like I’ll skewer ‘em to the wall with a pencil and to be perfectly honest there’s a few of ‘em I’d be happy to do it to, so they’ve probably got the right outlook.”

“I don’t avoid you.”

Darcy’s voice was quiet, but firm, and he had to stop then and look at her. Really look at her, pushing aside the dress, the hair, the way her waist dipped in and flared out at her hips and the way he’d really, really, like to lay her over the counter and flick his tongue across her until she was crying out his name and nothing else; and seeing a determined young woman in front of him, trying to get him to see the world as she did. 

“Nah, I know you don’t. That’s ‘cause you ain’t got the sense you were born with, kid. If you did you’d know a nice girl like you should run for the hills to avoid a wretch like me.” This he delivered with a soft, twisted little smile, and his hand glanced over hers briefly, just enough to raise the hairs on her arms at the feel of it, but not enough so that he was actually touching her. 

“I’m not so nice.” Darcy offered quietly. 

“That so?” He huffed to himself, sounding amused. “And what’s on your list of indiscretions, little Miss Lewis?”

“Not sure you could handle it.” She countered, tilting her chin defiantly at him and he laughed properly then, shaking his head. Bucky brought the beer bottle to his lips and chased a droplet of liquid around the edge of it with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it and chugging it back. Darcy, eyes drawn to his lips, shook her head free of the dozen images that forced their way through her mind and changed the subject, picking up the little wand she’d discarded on the bar earlier. 

“So you’re telling me that if I could wave this magic wand and make you be Steve, you’d be happy?” 

He gave her a long hard look that had nothing of Captain America in it at all. It whispered to her of desire and want, need and something that, if she didn’t know better, looked a little like possession. Darcy felt her heart thump hard against the inside of her rib cage and knew that she wanted to see that look on his face again, to be the cause of it rolling over his features like slow honey dripping from a dessert spoon. 

“If it meant I could have you,” He paused, and the slow drag of his eyes across her made Darcy burn from the inside out, like he’d set a fire and was happy to stand back and watch it consume her. “Maybe.”

“You don’t have to be him to have me.” She said, heart rising up at his words as much as her own counterpoint, until it was in the back of her throat and a deep, burning heat creeping over her skin as she met his gaze full on. “If that’s what you want.”

“Come on, doll.” He laughed, and wrapped his lips again around the glass bottle, letting his tongue dance across the edge of it and enjoying the way her eyes followed it, because above all else that he was, Bucky Barnes was a masochist. If he’d cared enough for his own feelings, he’d never indulge in the look he was helping to put on her face even as he was telling her he was no good. 

“The only way I could ever deserve someone like you is to be someone like Steve. And I ain’t. Even before they strapped me down and scrawled what they wanted me to know on the inside of my head and threw the rest out for the rats to eat.” 

“Who says I want Steve?” She asked, an incredulous look on her face and that gave him pause. Girls always wanted a man like Steve, in the end. Yeah, in the ‘30s his face might have attracted them at first, the ease with which he swung them and the way he pressed them against their front doors, teasing just enough out to keep them both happy, but once they realised what James Barnes was really about, it wasn’t enough to keep them hanging on. In fairness though, he’d never wanted to keep a girl before. Looking at Darcy messed with his head and all that was still jumbled within it. 

“You a white witch tonight, Lewis?” Bucky mumbled around the glass, just loud enough for her to catch his words. He stared down at the floor, contemplative, shifting under the tight blue fabric of Steve’s suit as it encased him. “Come to wave your little wand and make me a real boy?” 

“That’s the blue fairy,” She corrected. “And no.” Darcy paused again, and twisted her body at the counter so that she was facing him, blue eyes mostly serious with a glint to the edge of them picked out by the starlights in the ceiling above them that spoke of something entirely other. “I’m the wicked witch.”

His mouth crooked as he looked at her, a decidedly un-Steve like gaze which sat at odds against the blue and white suit that stretched over him like the very first sin man ever committed, the one that made the angels weep and cast Adam from Eden, raking across her and she shivered as his eyes wandered over her body. 

“You wanted to come here and be Steve with me?”

“Yeah, kid.” He took a drag on the beer bottle he was holding, let the liquid swill around his mouth and swallowed it lazily as he settled back against the bar, something of a wistful smile rolling over his mouth before he continued. “I thought I could be Steve tonight, prop up the bar with you, lead you back to your room safe at the end of the night. If I’m feeling particularly daring, maybe I’ll steal a kiss from you at your door.”

“And you think that’s what I want?”

“That’s what you should want. Good man like Steve, won’t press you. Won’t take more from you than you really want to give.”

“Won’t have me screaming his name from underneath him so the neighbours can hear and know who I belong to?” 

The bottle stuttered slightly on its way back to his lips, and though he didn’t look over at her, she could see his eyes widen. A frisson of electricity shot up her spine as she saw it, delighting in the fact that she could make him pause like that. Bucky collected himself and nodded slightly, downing the rest of the beer and putting it down a little harder than perhaps he’d intended on the counter. 

“Don’t play games, Lewis.” 

“It’s not a game.” She edged up closer to him, close enough that the curve of her breast grazed the edge of his arm, but no closer. Just enough to let him feel the heat of her body against his. “You want to know my indiscretions? The things that make me a bad little witch?” She rolled the wand in her hands as she chanced a glance up at him from under lowered lashes, and saw to her thrill that he was watching her avidly. 

“I think about you,” She breathed, voice just loud enough for him to hear her. “I think about you when I’m by myself. I think about what you look like naked, what you might taste like, what sounds you’d make if I dropped to my knees in front of you and swallowed you down, as far as I could.” She paused, catching her own breath as the thought of doing just that right then and there, in full view of the party, rolled through her mind. 

“What else?” His voice, unexpected in her ear, was ragged as he spoke, needy and laced right through with want. The husky tone shot straight through Darcy and she shivered, even as he bent closer to her and brushed his lips over the sensitive skin by her ear. “What else have you thought about, little witch?”

“What it would be like to ride you,” She answered, closing her eyes under his scrutiny, and feeling the whisper-light touch of his hand against her breast, just for a moment, as though it were never there at all, leaving in its wake the hardened peak of her nipple against the thin material of her dress, aching for more. 

“Whether you'd want to take me from behind, how long it would take you to come inside me, if you’d be loud or, or, slow, if you like to be rough,” The words fell from her and she could not stop them coming, imagining each one as she spoke it, feeling her breath catch again and again in the back of her throat as the desire of him twisted in her stomach. 

“You’d’ve scared Steve off by now, telling him things like that,” Bucky chuckled lightly, but his eyes were dark and laden with heat, his hand slipping to cradle her waist and draw little nonsense patterns over her hip bone as though he wished the dress were not in the way of his searching fingers. “I’m not sure Captain America is allowed to hear things like that. Unconstitutional.”

“He is tonight,” Darcy said, shifting her body further into him and angling her face up so that her rose-red painted lips were just inches from his stubbled cheek. “He’s allowed to do them, if he wants.” She was rewarded, thrillingly, by the low rumble of a groan that started in his chest and escaped through his sinful mouth like a prayer not meant for the ears of the righteous. 

“I’m not Captain America, doll,” He said finally, forcing his eyes back open from where they’d fallen shut. Bucky looked down at her seriously, his hand ceasing in its movements against her hip, but grasping at her firmly instead as though he was trying to remind himself through his touch where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. 

“You are tonight.” Darcy said simply. 

“That so.” Bucky nodded, half shaking his head at the same time and fixing his eyes on the floor, far away from the tempting little witch stood so close beside him. “You sure it’s not been Steve in those wicked little dreams of yours, Lewis? Not Captain America you want in your bed, all golden and good?” He can’t look at her now. Not as he waits for her to tell him he’s right, that it’s the uniform got her hot and bothered, that she longs for Steve to put his hands all over her, in the places that he’s thought about in the long stretches of the night when he can’t close his eyes for fear the demons will overtake him again. 

“It’s not Steve, it’s never been Steve.” Darcy said, and her voice was sharp, sharp enough to jerk his head back up and to find her looking back at him, not angry, quite, but heading that way if he pushed it too hard. She swallows, and steps a little closer, all but pressed up against his chest now. “You gonna let me prove it?”

It’s his turn to swallow, and Bucky can do nothing else but nod mutely at her in response. 

Tugging at him, her small hand in his left one, and the significance of that did not escape him, Darcy towed him through corridor after corridor until they reached her door. She leaned with her back against it and looked up at him, blue eyes darkened in the low light of the corridor. Bucky, swallowing, let hands that shook only a little fall to her waist and he stepped up to her, pressing himself against her and dropping his head to meet hers. 

“You’ve bewitched me, Lewis. Heart and soul. How’d you manage that, eh? It ain’t this get up, either, even though it clings to parts of you I’m not sure I even knew existed before tonight.” He mused, running his hands over her waist and scrunching his eyes up as he looked down at her, bare desire mixed with a deep fondness playing within his eyes. “Naw, I was gone for you even in your sloppy sweaters and ripped jeans.”

Darcy bit her lip and then stretched up towards him, brushing her lips over his in a kiss that was more of a sigh, a promise of more. He fumbled at her, lost in the moment and a need to taste her again. To claim her. She put a finger to his lips and her other hand found the door handle and let it fall open behind her. 

“Not a gingerbread house then, little witch?” He said, letting his eyes wander as she tugged him by the hand and walked backwards, the chiffon sleeves of her long dress catching around her arms, dangling against her sides as the black fabric hitched and swayed over her body as it moved. 

“I can think of sweeter things to put in my mouth.”

“That so? Where the hell did you come from?” He wondered aloud, as she pulled him through her little apartment, past the couch, through a tiny hallway and finally into her bedroom, towards the bed. “The Lewis I know giggles at people falling over and blushes when I take my shirt off to get under Steve’s motorbike. Not this hellcat tugging at my zipper.” She was on her knees now, and his were bumping against the bedframe as she pulled him ever closer, hands dropped now to his utility belt and lower. 

“It’s come as you aren’t night,” She said playfully, running a hand up the line of the zipper and he let his head fall backwards with an unashamed groan, arching backwards slightly and letting his knees push against the edge of the bed as his cock jumped to attention. “But I’ll tell you a secret. On All Hallows' Eve if you cast a spell at the right time, it’ll stick.”

“Best not do it, kid,” He warned, dropping his head back forward towards her, dark hair hanging in his eyes and a hand reaching out for her chin. “Keep that wand for nicer things. Woe betide us all if you get stuck with me as Captain America.” 

Darcy just shook her head, not deigning to answer him, and pulled his zipper down. 

He watched in abject fascination as she leaned forward to mouth at him, her eyes fluttering shut as she did so, like there was nothing in the world she’d rather be doing. The heat of her mouth warmed him through his boxers and he couldn’t help but groan once again at the feel of it. Darcy sat back and grinned, hands feeling at the edges of the suit waistband and pulling it down just enough that she could haul down his underwear too. 

His cock sprang free, and Bucky nearly swallowed his lower lip whole as she took him into her mouth without hesitation. Her tongue slipped over and under him, twisting and sliding in a delicious sensation that left his knees shaking. He let one hand - his right hand, because good as she was, he wasn’t that far gone - fall to the back of her head and tangle in her hair as she worked him over. 

Bucky’s breath came in short bursts and he could practically hear his heart hammering against the inside of his chest as blood raced through his veins. He let out a low whimper as Darcy’s tongue executed an interesting twist over the head of his cock and she sucked at the same time. With excruciating difficulty, he pulled back, and her mouth let go with a wet pop. 

He closed his eyes and tried to collect himself, reciting the presidents in order, to keep from losing it right then and there at the mere memory of her mouth. When he managed to peel his eyes open, having managed to reach Jimmy Carter which was interesting as he couldn’t actually remember the man, Darcy was sat back on her heels, looking up at him with a swollen mouth and pink cheeks. 

Bucky dropped onto the bed, thighs over her own, and captured her mouth with his in a deep, possessive kiss. Hands all over her, dragging her against him, pushing the swathes of material further up her thighs, clutching at her ass, tilting her chin and angling her better against him, Bucky couldn’t help but touch her. 

Darcy’s hands in turn felt their way across his chest, landed over the wide white star that was currently splashed across it, and he choked back a laugh at the thought of Steve’s face if he knew what Bucky was getting up to in his suit. 

He pushed her back, letting her fall against the pillows and the rucked up bedcover, and delighted in the way her legs fell open to accommodate him. He inched forward, settling himself comfortably over her and kissed his way over her stomach up to her breasts and finally to her sweet lips yet again. 

“God,” He said, pulling back and drawing a deep breath, sucking it into his lungs like it might be the last air he tasted. “You sure you want this? That you want me?” He told himself that he’d be able to walk away if she said no, fed himself the lie that he’d simply shake his head and agree that she was right, that his heart wouldn’t shatter into a thousand pieces and more within him, irreparable and stabbing at him constantly every time her little brunette head bobbed past. 

The sharp blaze of her eyes before they shut tight and the deep pull of her kiss as she claimed him answered him in ways he’d never thought possible. Bucky Barnes gave himself over to losing his head in the warmth that was Darcy Lewis. Little witch indeed, he thought, letting her tongue slide across his and feeling her rock her hips up towards his own. He was bewitched, bothered and bewildered by her, alright. Maybe even several times over, if he could keep it together. 

“Careful with your spells, little witch,” He said gently, voice calmer than he felt on the inside, and pulling back from her though he followed it up with teeth dragged lightly over the exposed expanse of her neck as she tilted back away from him. “Mind it’s not a curse you place instead. You might find you’ve got a dark shadow dogging your heels the rest of your days. No one wants that.”

“Don’t you tell me what I want and what I don’t want, Bucky Barnes.” 

Blue eyes fixed on his own, full of burning fire and something far darker than desire dancing within them. He thought, fleetingly, that perhaps this was the real Darcy Lewis, the one that she kept hidden day to day under oversized sweaters and blinking behind glasses, for fear that the self she really was would take over the world without pausing to ask permission. He found himself liking the idea. 

“What would you have me tell you instead, Lewis?” He countered, running his tongue over the curves of her breasts as they lay in front of him, enjoying the taste of the light sheen of sweat that covered her. He pressed soft kisses all along her collarbone as he waited on her answer, feeling rather than hearing the way her throat caught and words stuttered and died on her lips as he let his tongue praise her body. 

“Tell me-” She cut off into a deep sigh as his mouth moved south and he caught against the peak of a nipple that hardened under his touch. Bucky grinned, watching her face crease and feeling her grip into his shoulders as he continued, letting his tongue roll across the thin material of her dress and wondering whether she’d be turned on if he ripped it. 

“Tell me what you want.” Darcy, regaining a little control over herself, struggled up onto her elbows and fixed him with a serious look. Bucky pulled back, settled as he was between her legs and half collapsed already over her stomach. He sucked on his lower lip thoughtfully, and tucked an errant strand of her back behind her ear. She waited. 

“You.” He answered, voice low, husky, and it was not desire that forced the deepness from it, though he could feel her hot against him and he hard in the suit; Bucky Barnes looked up at the little brunette laying half under him and he wanted to keep her. 

“You,” He repeated, surging upwards to capture her lips, teasing them apart with his tongue and kissing her firmly to punctuate his words. “For as long as you’d have me. Be it only tonight, be it for the rest of my miserable life, for as long as you’re daft enough to put up with me. Whatever you’re willing to give, however little, I’ll take it and be grateful-”

She kissed him, hard. Cutting him off, swallowing the rest of the words he couldn’t predict but knew would come tumbling from his lips as he looked down at her. Captured by her, spellbound and perfectly prepared to beg for more. 

Bucky edged up the hem of her dress until it was ruffled around her hips, and felt his way across her teasingly until he reached the edge of her panties. Damp already, excited and waiting for him to explore, he closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten until he had a better hold of himself. Opening them once more, he found her wriggling further underneath him, hooking a leg over his thigh and drawing him closer to him. 

Hip to hip, and his cock nestled right up against her. 

Bucky’s mouth found hers and teased her open as his hand made the same movements against her, trapped between their bodies. He traced along the edge of her panties, feeling the lacy little trim against his fingertip, nudging his cock out of the way for the moment and slipping inside her to find her even more wet and ready for him than he’d thought. 

Dacy’s back arched and pushed her breasts up against his chest, arms around his neck and tugging his face ever closer to hers. She moaned into his mouth and he grinned, pushing up further inside her and crooking his finger bent to see what other interesting sounds he might be able to coax from her. 

“Bucky-” She broke away from him, breath catching and chest heaving. “I want-”

“What, doll?” He said, knowingly and with a wicked grin and a twist of his finger, bringing another to join it at the same time, and she howled into his shoulder, teeth grazing against him hard enough he could feel it through the thick material of the suit. 

“Bastard,” She panted, clinging to him, rocking her hips upwards and over his fingers, still moving inside her and enjoying the slick slide that she provided. His cock twitched and Bucky rolled his hips back into her in response, nudging towards where his fingers were buried. He slid himself across her, pressing in and up experimentally but not enough to breach her, not yet. Darcy’s head fell back, her eyes closing, and Bucky decided he’d been teasing her for too long. 

He tugged at her panties, pulling them down her legs and shifting to one side to free them completely. Bucky threw them over his shoulder and readjusted himself, hands pulling her thighs towards him and finally, finally, letting himself slide home. 

Darcy cursed loudly as he filled her, and if he’d been able to speak at all, Bucky would have joined her. He rested his head against her shoulder, feeling his sweat mingle with hers, waiting to catch his breath and catch himself before he could begin to move. He could feel Darcy breathing underneath him, the slow rise and fall of her breasts against the suit he was still somehow packed into, the ruffle of her gathered dress hitched up around her hips and pinned by his thighs. 

Bucky dropped a kiss to her bare shoulder where the dress had fallen, then another and another, finding his way back up her neck to her lips as he began to thrust into her. She rolled up into him, meeting him on every stroke, her blue eyes meeting his own and he gazed down at her as he rocked. Words tumbled uselessly around the inside of his mind, all the things he might be able to say to her, things he’d wanted to say for a time now, the things that his ma had told him a nice girl deserved to hear. 

He couldn’t manage to form any of them, not whilst he was jostled up inside her and her beginning to cry out underneath him, the snap of his hips increasing as she implored him in a broken, stuttering little voice, to go harder, faster, to take her, to fuck her. The bed was shaking and so was he, bending his head to lap beads of sweat from the cleft between her breasts, driving up into her, the wet slick sliding over his cock, hot and tight and making him lose his damn mind at the feel of it as she started to crumble around him. 

Her legs tightened around him, thighs clamping against his, trying to gain some purchase as she thrust back, grinding herself against him and hands scrabbling amongst the crumpled bedclothes somewhere above her head. Grunting, he reached out and clasped both her wrists in one hand, stretching them out above her head and the angle of it twisting his body slightly so that each new stroke up into her hit a new place. 

Darcy gasped, and her whole body shuddered as she pressed up against him again and again. She strained at his hand keeping her wrists in place but when he bent his head close to hers she whispered in his ear that she liked it, that his strength was turning her on, asked him whether it made his cock jump inside her when he held her down, when she wriggled against him. Bucky bit his lip at her words, biting back a moan, before showing her how exactly it excited him, thrusting into her hard and fast and making her bounce between his hips and his hand. 

She came with a shout that she sobbed out into his shoulder, arching up as far as she could against him and he cursed like it was a prayer, to feel her shaking around him. Bucky carried on, pushing, driving, stroking up into her, feeling the tight squeeze as her hands clutched at his shoulders. Forcing her eyes open, she looked him dead in the eye and told him to fill her. 

Bucky thought there was probably a list of around five things he wouldn’t do if Darcy asked him, and even that might be stretching it. So, closing his eyes and giving himself over to the burn he felt in the pit of his stomach, curling around him and making him thrust up into her over and over until he came, cock jerking deep inside her and he collapsing with his weight onto his left arm, careful even at the point his mind had gone blank not to roll on top of her entirely. 

Catching his breath and releasing her wrists so that he could cradle her properly, Bucky was surprised to find Darcy sighing back into him, hand reaching for his cheek and cupping him softly before tripping to his chin and tugging him down towards her, stealing a kiss and then another, just because she could. 

“You’ve done it now, Lewis,” He breathed with eyes closed as she pulled back and nestled her head into him. 

“Mmmmm?” She mumbled lazily, unable to speak but waiting on his answer all the same. 

“Cast that spell of yours, and now you’ll never get rid of me.” Bucky punctuated his words with a firm kiss to her lips before casting his gaze over her small face, framed by a cloud of dark hair that he brushed away from her forehead gently. “Blew up right in your face, didn’t it? Not such an accomplished witch after all.”

“Idiot.” She answered, voice soft and eyes closed. “That was the point all along.”


End file.
